A Summer Of Broken Hearts

Part I: A Summer of Broken Hearts

This was written for the Rhiannonhero Summer Title Challenge

Rating: R but will turn NC-17
Discalmer: Smallville belongs to DC comics and WB. This is non-profit entertainment. No infringement is intended so please don't sue me

Thanks to Rose7 for all her time and beta efforts. A big thank-you to Skuf also, for going through all of this and correcting my comma and grammar errors. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Please feel free to point them out.


1

A Summer Of Broken Hearts


Summer sucked. Summers had always sucked. This had nothing to do with the copious amounts of sun block needed to protect his sensitive skin, or the sweating he was bound to do under various forms of headdress. Lex could deal with the practical. What he could not deal with was the unexplained resonance of hope he always felt deep within himself, as damp, cool spring gave way to climbing temperatures and cloudless blue skies. He was disgusted at his inability to control it, or the flood of unbidden memories that inevitably joined in – memories that always served to remind him that no matter how good hope felt, it would be crushed at a later, yet to be disclosed date. So Lex did as he had done since he was twelve; he turned up the air-conditioning and did his best to ignore what season he was in, and the unwanted hope arising.

Lex unconsciously put more weight behind his right foot, taking him yet another notch over the speed limit. What the fuck was he doing? Driving back to Smallville had definitely not been on the agenda last night. No, last night, that college boy he picked up at The Colony had been the agenda. Lex had singled him out, as he had the countless others before him, simply because he had ‘top only’ written all over him. Arrogant and beautifully built, he was a challenge if Lex had ever seen one. The clueless young man had left the club with him, wearing a cocky smile that said he was going to be giving it to the famous Luthor Heir every which way he could think of. His assurance had evaporated quickly in the bedroom when he realized that a Luthor didn’t bottom – ever.

A small smile crossed his face as he thought about how poorly prepared his opponent had been in the fight for dominance. Lex had him swearing, moaning, and, in record time, spread wide and willing to take what he previously had only dished out. In taking possession Lex had been neither gentle nor patient; on the contrary, he experienced an almost savage pleasure in the whimpering that issued from the mouth of the large body beneath him. As he thrust relentlessly into the incredibly tight, hot body, Lex realized that although he considered himself bi-sexual, the all-encompassing need to conquer was what made him favor men. Women were certainly not to be brushed aside lightly. He appreciated the intelligence and cunning they possessed, especially in bed. But when all was said and done, a woman was conquered the moment she agreed to have sex with you. Even when she was on top riding her partner, a female was still a bottom; it made the act itself actually anti-climatic. With a man, the sex act was a constant battle; a bid for dominance and control until the last drop of seed was spilled. For Lex, this prolonged battle outweighed the benefits of a nice wet pussy any day of the week.

None of this, however, explained what he was doing in his Boxster, high-tailing it back to Smallville at a rate of…whoa. Lex eased his foot off the gas pedal slightly. This was insane. It was Clark, or lack there of, coupled with his frustration at not being able to control the town gossip about him that had triggered his departure from Smallville just last week. He was sure nothing had changed or been resolved during his absence, so why did he suddenly feel this overwhelming need to return?

Lex’s unease increased as he thought about how infrequently he had seen Clark since the beginning of summer vacation. The friend that had made a habit of visiting him on an almost daily basis since February, was suddenly absent, apparently busy with a never-ending list of seasonal chores. While he was sure Kent Sr. was reciting a steady stream of platitudes from the broken record in his head (idle hands are the work of the Devil…early to bed, early to rise, blah, blah, blah), Lex suspected that Jonathan was intentionally doing his best to limit Clark’s free time. Further, he was certain that where and with whom Clark would be allowed to spend his non-working hours was being tightly controlled by good old dad. Lex sighed and reached over to turn up the air conditioner, his thoughts wandering once again to the situation in Smallville.

Although he had never entertained men when he was in Smallville, Lex was certain that the elder Kent had been privy to the quiet rumours that had begun to circulate shortly after school let out in early June. Apparently one of the bartenders from his regular Metropolis hangout had visited family in Smallville around that time. While it was not a gay club, and Lex had always been discrete, it was not impossible that an observant employee would be able to discern what Lex’s inclinations were. However, considering how lucrative jobs at The Colony were, Lex had assumed it was impressed upon the employees that keeping ones mouth shut about the habits of the club’s wealthy patrons was not an option. Lex had been absolutely livid at the breech of confidentiality; heads had rolled, and the responsible bartender had vanished to parts unknown.

In all honesty, the situation would have been nothing more than a mere annoyance, had it not been for his friendship with Clark. Lex had never been ashamed of his flexible sexual nature, but he understood the need for discretion in a small farming town, especially when one considered the amount of time he spent with the Kent’s minor son. Although he knew the rumour stemmed purely from speculation (Lex had never been foolish enough to engage in physical contact at the club), it was enough for the Smallville grapevine to pick up on. It was certainly more than enough for the likes of Jonathan Kent, that stupid, fucking, bigoted farmer. Was he afraid that Clark’s association with a rumoured homosexual would somehow corrupt his straight, all-American boy? Or was the rumour just conformation of Jonathan’s belief that Lex was nothing more than an immoral, deceitful, conniving Luthor? An expensive Italian shoe pressed heavily, once again, on the accelerator.

Lex wondered, and not for the first time, if Clark had heard the rumour. His stomach made an uncomfortable slide at the thought. He believed that he knew his friend well enough to say that Clark either didn’t know, or knew and didn’t care. Lex had not noticed any change in Clark’s behaviour toward him when they ran into each other in town. Clark had joked on more than one of those occasions that he missed Lex’s kitchen. So why did he feel that things were not as okay as they should be between them? He missed Clark. He valued the easy way they had with each other – Clark just showing up at the mansion, flopping down in one of Lex’s leather chairs ready to talk about anything or nothing. Their silences were never uncomfortable. If Lex was involved with business when he showed up, Clark would wander off towards the kitchen, happily munching away on whatever the cook had to offer until Lex was free. Even their silent acknowledgment and acceptance of the other’s shadowy, darker side had done no harm to the underlying trust they otherwise shared. Clark was an anomaly in Lex’s life, there was no doubt about that, but he was damned if he would allow anyone to convince Clark that he would be better off without this particular Luthor. Lex needed that honest, stable force in his life, and he was positive that in some odd way, Clark needed what Lex had to give.

Lex shifted uncomfortably in the low, leather seat as he felt an unbidden tightness in his chest and throat – a feeling that he always associated with the misery he had silently endured when first his mother, and then Pamela disappeared from his life. He had loved them. Their departure coupled with the sudden, total submersion in Lionel’s cold, manipulative parenting had broken something inside him. Lex had always been careful to avoid closer examination of that wounded place, instead closing it, and the memories of that particularly horrendous summer, behind one of the many nameless, carefully guarded doors in his conscious mind.

That the very thought of losing Clark’s friendship could cause the seal on that particular door to leak astonished him. On the heels of that revelation, Lex found the clarity and understanding that he had been seeking during the entire drive. As he entered the Smallville city limits, he understood what needed to be done if he wanted a chance at avoiding yet another miserable, heartbreaking summer.

Lex shut down the memories, and let the electric window slide open. He felt himself surrender to the hot, dry summer air as it quickly stole his breath, and enveloped his over-cooled skin – for now he would let hope resonate.